


The Trouble with Gossip

by HanukoYoukai



Series: Take My Heart With You [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur is a bit of a twit, Betrayal, Feels, Friendship, Gossip, How Do I Tag, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, One day I'll figure out tagging, Rumors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 10:20:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17847590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HanukoYoukai/pseuds/HanukoYoukai
Summary: He didn't apologize. He didn't feel bad about it at all. This... thing did not deserve his forgiveness after what he had done. He most certainly didn't deserve an apology from a king teaching his wayward servant his place.Following some playful advice to get to the bottom of his worries over his manservant, Arthur and Mithian overhear some rumors about Merlin, putting his loyalty into question.





	The Trouble with Gossip

**Author's Note:**

> ***Already posted at FFN***  
> Well here is my first Merlin story for this site. This weird AR/AU (possibly. I'm trying really hard to make it line up with the storyline in the show) came to my head one day and wouldn't leave me alone. Basically I have a bunch of one-shots in my head, wanting to be written in this "universe," if you will. This is the first one I wrote, which takes place towards the end of the timeline. (middle-end, basically during season 4). I'm writing it _in medias res_ so I hope that's not offputting. I'll try to get them in a chronological order at some point. For now they will be in the order that they are written. 
> 
> This story takes place during the end of "The Hunter's Heart." I personally think Mithian was there for quite a while. Also, I am not kind to Arthur in this. This is not because I don't _like_ Arthur. It's because he is in a bad place, and therefore is falling back on prat-Arthur instead of Once-and-future-King-Arthur. I've found when we are dealing with the icky problems in our lives, we are not usually at our best. Also, gossip is nasty people. Don't engage in it. Or do, but realize there are ramifications. :)

Arthur sighed, watching Merlin leave the hall in the—admittedly more capable—hands of George. Mithian, who was delicately seated to his left, took a small sip of wine before setting her goblet down without a sound. The golden-haired man sighed ruefully once his dimwitted servant was out of sight. _What could that idiot know about it,_ he thought viciously. _I tried, and Camelot needs a queen. I need an heir. If Guinevere—_ he abruptly turned his thoughts elsewhere, the sting of his love's betrayal still sharp in his chest. It had not lessened with time as his uncle kept trying to make him believe. Arthur didn't care how often his manservant tried to explain her _“odd behavior, honestly, Arthur, Gwen would never—”_ disposition. She broke his heart, after everything he put himself through for her. Worse, she humiliated him. He could never forgive her transgression. It didn't matter that he found her ring earlier that day, either carelessly dropped, or lost due to unforeseen circumstances. He couldn't dwell on her.

 

Deep in his heart he prayed she was alright.

 

A small, pale hand at his wrist pulled him from his bitter thoughts.

 

“I apologize, My Lady. I fear I am not the best company at the moment.”

 

Mithian's brown eyes crinkled in a smile at his admission, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly. Nothing like the bright showing of teeth that Gwen— _no stop that now. She's not here. She betrayed you_ —was known for, but a showing of grace that a lady of her station was allowed. Completely proper. If he hadn't gotten to know her as well as he had in the last few days, he would think she was like all ladies in the court. Intelligent, comely, and well-groomed for the position of marriage for alliance, but someone he would have to work hard at developing any kind of relationship with. There was nothing relaxed or simple about noblewomen. However he found it was easy, being with Mithian. He felt he could grow to love this woman in time, even if the only common ground they seemed to share right now was the love of a good hunt. Merlin believed he should follow his heart. Granted, he probably felt that Arthur's heart would go back to Gwen, given that he had asked why he still loved her, but now his heart was telling him that this could be his future, and it could be both beneficial and easier, for him and both their kingdoms.

 

He really wished his heart would just make up its mind already, so he could make up his.

 

“Mithian, Arthur. Surely we have learned each other well enough to forget our titles, at least in private.” The dark-haired princess moved her hand away and wrapped her fingers around the stem of her cup, but did not move to take another drink. She glanced over to the stone wall where George—neatly pressed, brass-loving, seemly George—stood straight, holding the pitcher of wine at precisely the right distance away from his chest, bottom perfectly parallel to the floor, honestly a far cry better than how Merlin behaved in the royal's presence. “May I ask you something?” George spotted her glance and immediately moved forward, quietly topping off her glass and giving a polite nod at her quiet thanks, moving to Arthur's and doing the same. As swiftly as he had come, he was back in the exact same position against the wall. It was almost eerie.

 

“Of course, My, uh,” Arthur took a moment to clear his throat, “Mithian.”

 

Her lips turned up even more. “Something seems to be troubling you. I feel that I may be disrupting things for you and your staff, a little. Is your manservant not prone to visitors?” It was an odd question, and Arthur felt the need to defend his friend, _servant, Arthur, he's just a servant,_ and his standoffish conduct.

 

“He is very used to visitors, Mithian. Please forgive him for his countenance. We've had a trying few weeks recently. Normally he's much politer to guests,” the fact that he was _only_ polite to guests was not something Mithian needed to be privy to just yet. There was a small cough that came from neither the princess nor the king, and Arthur glanced at the servant against the wall, somewhat surprised to hear a noise from his direction. George's ears were in fact pink, which was the best indicator that the indiscretion came from the servant. Whether it was due to disbelief that Merlin could ever be polite, or just the fact that he had a tickle in his throat, it was surprising nonetheless. Arthur's eyebrows raised slightly and George moved forward with the pitcher, even though Arthur had not taken a sip from his goblet since the last time it was refilled.

 

“Excuse me, George, was it?” Mithian's steady voice spoke directly to the small man who appeared anxious at his lack of discipline. George bowed in acknowledgment, not making another sound. Mithian smiled fully this time, a hint of her teeth started to show. “George, I don't believe King Arthur or myself will require any more of your services this evening. Please leave the pitcher on the table and resume your other duties.” George raised his head to glance at the blonde monarch, and at Arthur's nod he quickly bowed himself out, leaving the pitcher at precisely the right distance for Arthur to reach, but not to disturb his movements while eating and talking. _Eerie._

 

“Why did you decide to dismiss George?”

 

“Is it really so important that we have a chaperon at all times? Surely if you were going to behave indecently toward me you would have already attempted it,” she chuckled. Arthur felt his face heat up.

 

“Of course I wouldn't!”

 

“Then we have nothing to worry about, do we?” Mithian took another sip and finally released her goblet in favor of nibbling some food from her plate.

 

“Well, no we don't... except that George is likely to fall into a panic about being dismissed. Maybe he thinks he didn't pour enough wine, or that his cough disturbed you,” Arthur chuckled, sipping at his own wine.

 

“No, he wouldn't think that would he?” Mithian had such true concern in her eyes that Arthur had to laugh outright at it.

 

“No, I don't believe so. It's hard to tell with him. Really, if he weren't so dull I'd have sacked Merlin by now and had George replace him,” he chuckled, pulling a strawberry from his plate.

 

“Don't jest about that sort of thing. It will get back to your manservant and you will have problems on your hands with him, just you wait,” Mithian scolded lightly, but her smile was brighter now.

 

“He's too idiotic to pay attention to gossip, and even if he weren’t, I doubt the servants chat much about _Merlin,_ of all people.”

 

“I beg to differ, Arthur. The first thing my handmaiden said to me upon our arrival was that I would have to try to win him over before attempting to gain your favor,” she deftly pulled the strawberry from Arthur's fingers before taking a small bite with a smirk. Arthur shook his head at her boldness. “At least, according to what she heard from the other servants.”

 

“Is that so?” Mithian nodded her head, still smirking. Arthur reached down to his plate to retrieve a slice of dried apple. “And why is that, do you think?” he asked with mock-seriousness.

 

“Because you are his friend, and he looks out for your well-being,” she said, very seriously. “I do think it's lovely, that you've found a friend in your servant. That can be difficult for us, sometimes.”

 

Arthur opened his mouth, ready to contradict any accusations of friendship with Merlin, but he found on this day, with this lady, he simply couldn't allow the denial to escape. Merlin was his friend, and he knew something was wrong. He didn't know why, or how, but he felt in his bones it was true. The problem was the man talked incessantly on end but didn't seem to ever actually say anything important. Well, at least he didn't say anything important about himself. Arthur reluctantly sighed, a frown marring his handsome face.

 

“Arthur? Please, tell me what is the matter?” Mithian was kind and good. She was an intelligent, wise woman who had a wicked sense of humor and who seemed to enjoy all aspects of life. She had the wherewithal to appease Agravaine, and the personality to appease the king. If nothing else, the two were becoming fast friends, and this problem he was unable to take to his knights, knowing the responses would vary between, _“I haven't the faintest idea, Sire,”_ to, _“Well, of course he's upset with you princess. When is he not?”_ Arthur finished the leathery piece of apple in his hand and wiped his fingers against the napkin on the table before meeting her eyes.

 

“Well, in truth he has been very,” Arthur paused, searching for the word, “distant, lately. A few weeks ago my knights ran into a problem of a magical nature, and they were all enchanted. Only Merlin and another servant,” _Gwen, dammit all it had to be Gwen,_ “weren't affected, and I believe it has caused some strife between everyone. He hasn't said anything about it, and neither have they, with the exception that they can't remember much after the enchantment, but I am certain it's caused some kind of discord. He's been quiet, and it seems like the only time he opens his mouth is to scold me about one thing or another. It's been disconcerting, to say the least.”

 

“Has he ever acted this way before?” Mithian placed her hand on Arthur's, a show of support as he pondered her question.

 

Arthur paused, wracking his memory for any similar behavior. “Not that I can recall,” Arthur was not one to worry about feelings, and for all the years he had Merlin in his employ he could not remember an incident where he had behaved like this, the exception being that time a Bastet had plagued the streets of Camelot. At the time Arthur and Merlin were less than friends, but more than a master and his servant, so Arthur had not asked what that was about. Feelings were difficult and intangible. Usually it was Merlin, girl's petticoat that he was, who made Arthur deal with those.

 

“You never asked what happened, did you?” it was a statement, not a question. Nevertheless Arthur shook his head. “I understand. It is the same with me and my Anna. She's one of the truest friends I could have, but there is a separation. We just can't talk about those sorts of things.” There was as resounding truthfulness to her words, as much as Arthur did not want it to be so, and Merlin often tried to blur the lines between them when it came to the king's love life, but he never crossed that boundary when it was his own. “But,” she smiled fully at him, teeth and all, and Arthur appreciated the sight of it at last, “I know a way we can find out what could be troubling your servant. It is not a certainty, but definitely a possibility, and can be quite fun.”

 

Arthur frowned a little, trying to think of what Mithian was getting at. “How?”

 

“Do you know of the fastest way a servant can go about completing his or her chores?”

 

Arthur most definitely did not know what Mithian was getting at. “Well, there are several passages that are for servants' usage, to more quickly complete their tasks.”

 

Mithian looked away from him, grabbing her goblet and taking a drink. “And do you know where the chambermaids are working, right now?”

 

* * *

 

 

Arthur still wasn't sure of this as they lingered behind an open door in the east wing. Footsteps in the hall beyond their hiding place implied that Mithian was correct, the serving girls were not going to be coming from this side, but it didn't settle his discomfort. He leaned down to whisper as much to her, but a finger to her lips and a shake of her head held his silence. Quietly they waited.

 

“Ah, Erin! It's about time you got here. This fire needs to be built before Lord Nelson retires for the night,” a small nasal voice came from within the chamber.

 

“Sorry Mary! I can't believe I forgot the spark rocks. I'll get right on it!” Erin's voice was higher in tone, and much louder and more boisterous than the previous owner.

 

There was a rustling of fabric and a clattering of wood for a few moments before the ladies decided to start chatting.

 

“So Cookie is giving out favors again,” Mary said with a giggle, her voice muffled slightly.

 

“Oh? To anyone I know?” Erin's voice came out over the sound of a brush against stone.

 

“You'll never believe me when I tell you,” Mary spoke in a conspiratorial tone. The fabric rustled and snapped as the brushing continued.

 

“Come on, dovey, tell me. I've got to know who to sidle up to so I can get some treats from the Royal's table,” Erin laughed. _Treats from the Royal's table?_ Arthur wondered at that. He had thought the cook was very strict on handing out any food from the kitchens, from what Gwain and Percival had to say on the matter. He was almost indignant. That was his food. Granted, he obviously didn't need _all_ of it but...

 

“Alright, well, apparently our little Falcon is being seen to by Cookie.” The brush stopped sweeping.

 

“What, Merlin? Cookie is trying to give treats to _Merlin_?” the pure disbelief in Erin's tone could not be missed. Arthur turned to Mithian and raised his eyebrows in surprise, both at the nickname and the cook's actions. Mithian covered her smile and gestured back toward the room with her head.

 

“Apparently yes. Somehow, the boy that has been the bane of her existence, whose hide will hold a place of pride over her stove, has managed to awaken her maternal instincts,” Mary laughed outright.

 

“Oh quit having me on. I know better, you stop!”

 

“It's true! I'd seen it myself. She was passing a sweet wrapped in a napkin to him as he was bringing King Arthur his lunch today!”

 

Arthur had seen the extra honeycake on his plate. He had only thought the cook was in a good mood.

 

“What? But why? Wait, you don't think she's trying to... _curry_ favor by _giving_ favor, do you?” Arthur's jaw dropped, slightly horrified. That woman was a beast. Granted, Arthur didn't really _know_ Merlin's type, and the man did seem interested in that very buxom barmaid a while back, but the cook was a different type of woman. She controlled her kitchen with an iron fist, and did not allow for mischief, cracking ladles on the wandering fingers of servant's without hesitation. Merlin's personality seemed to clash with hers on principle. Mithian looked at him with merriment dancing in her eyes. The fabric quit rustling and silence reigned for several breaths before Mary shrieked with laughter. Erin soon joined in with her own spirited laugh.

 

“Oh Gods, could you imagine? Merlin has far better taste, and so does Cookie for that matter. She wouldn't sneak around on her husband and even if she could, and our Falcon _certainly_ would not let her, at least not with him!” The laughter died down a bit and the sounds of the ladies getting to work resumed. Now there was the distinct sound of wood being stacked and water being poured.

 

“Why though?” Erin asked again, thoughtful. The pouring water stopped, and the sound of dishes clattering flitted from the chamber.

 

“Well, haven't you heard?” Mary asked quietly. Arthur and Mithian both leaned forward slightly to catch the quiet words being exchanged. “About....” her voice was hidden under the sounds of work within the chamber. “They went to that village with the sick people with Merlin when Gaius couldn’t attend?”

 

“I remember they left for a few days and came back a little worse for wear. I was a little preoccupied to notice much else,” Erin huffed. Arthur could hear the clacking of flint stones.

 

“Busy letting a stable boy up your skirts you mean.” Mithian blushed a little at this and Arthur, who had only just managed to close his mouth, dropped his jaw again. _Ladies speaking like this...._

 

“Mary!” Erin laughed, “The mouth on you, I swear!”

 

“I learned it from you,” Mary chuckled.

 

“Alright, quit, tell me what I missed.”

 

There was quiet in the room again, the only sound Arthur could make out was the snapping of burning wood.

 

“Well, he and... they had a fight, I think. Either during, or right after. I'm not sure. None of them are talking about it, which is downright peculiar if you ask me,” Mary said quietly. “Well, now it looks like they're not together anymore.”

 

“Oh no, really?” Erin gasped. Arthur could picture the maid clutching her chest in his mind's eye, as women were wont to do when there was heart-wrenching tales to be heard. He almost scoffed. Merlin wasn't seeing anyone. He would know that much, at least. For God's sake, the boy was practically a virgin.

 

“Well,” Erin recovered, and was obviously brushing the hearth again, “It's not as though it's unexpected.” The brushing ceased and there was the sound of materials being gathered. “I mean, it's Merlin. Honestly, the fact that it's lasted this long is pretty surprising. He's never been a one songbird fellow, has he?”

 

Okay, not practically a virgin, then.

 

“Actually,” Mary said quietly. “I heard it was the other way 'round.”

 

One of them (most likely Erin) gasped. “No... no it wasn't Merlin who ended it? He was more invested? He's never more invested. I knew they were getting close but.... Oh no. That poor man,” Erin's tone was distraught. “But he never... I mean what could have happened between them? Was it because of his station? Because if it was that clod will have another thing coming! Oh if I ever get my hands on—”

 

“Hush! That talk is almost treason, now stop,” Mary said quickly. Arthur latched on the word. Why would it be treason to want to go after the person who broke Merlin's heart? Arthur had half a mind to go after her himself. “Anyway, it's not like anything can come of it anyway, what with Gwen banished and all.”

 

Arthur felt the color drain from his face. There were footsteps coming toward the door and he felt Mithian pull him up the corridor and out of sight. Merlin with Gwen? Merlin was heartbroken over Gwen? Merlin.... even Merlin had betrayed Arthur?

 

* * *

 

 

Arthur was sullen the rest of the afternoon. He didn't have much to say to his servant—definitely servant. A friend would never do that to him—while the man cleaned his chambers. At first, Merlin nattered on like always, this time in Mithian's favor surprisingly enough, but he must have noticed Arthur's attitude because he soon stopped speaking. Arthur gave him an obscene number of chores, _“What, Arthur, that's impossible! How am I supposed to finish all of that this afternoon?” “Well I suppose you'd better find a way or it's the stocks for you come morning,”_ and told him his services would not be needed for supper. The way Merlin looked at him, so wounded and confused, he was like a puppy who had just been kicked. It was disgusting. Like the man hadn't been dallying with his love. Like he hadn't cut Arthur in the worst possible way.

 

He was not much good company for anyone it seemed, even Mithian, who he was supposed to woo. She dismissed George soon after the meal was served to speak to Arthur privately. Neither of them touched their food as she tried to get him to open up, but he was not going to speak of it.

 

“Arthur, even if Merlin did have some kind of tryst with a banished maid, what impact could it possibly have on you?”

 

Arthur couldn't begin to explain this treachery to her. He would have to tell her so much more, and the fact that the details of his total humiliation hadn't reached her kingdom was not something he wanted to change.

 

Nevertheless, he was not altogether pleasant. Mithian left dinner early, feigning a headache, and also excused herself from their activities come morning. This left a sour taste in Arthur's mouth. He had quite a bit of wine before finally settling in for a night of fitful sleep....

 

“Rise and shine!”

 

The light glared harshly into the king's eyes and the threw the nearest thing he had—a goblet—towards Merlin's voice, aiming true for once.

 

“OW! Arthur, what the hell is wrong with you! That hurt!” Merlin rubbed his shoulder as Arthur blinked the remains of a wine-addled sleep from his eyes. The wounded expression was back in full-force, warring with an irritated one.

 

“Did you get all your chores done yesterday?”

 

Merlin blinked at Arthur's blank visage. “That's... wait what? Arthur, what is going on?” Concern laced his tone, but Arthur was having none of it. He knew the truth now, didn't he?

 

“I asked you a question, Merlin,” Arthur was growling as he climbed out of his bed, walking to the changing screen and pulling the shirt he chose to wear last night, an act he was sure was not lost on Merlin.

 

“I... no Sire, I didn't. I got as much done as possible, but I wasn't able to complete everything. There are two things I intended to see to this morning while you were out with Princess Mithian.” Good. Formal tone. Glad that he managed to put Merlin in his place, he stayed behind the screen, changing his shirt.

 

“Well, Merlin, this morning Princess Mithian is not feeling well, so I will be training with the knights and need your assistance. There is also the question of your punishment. I do remember mentioning the stocks, last evening, didn't I?”

 

Which led to a harrowing morning for all involved. Merlin, once again, served as target practice for the knights. Arthur did not choose to go first, allowing the others to hit his shield arm until he was knocked down. Gwaine, as always, was laughing while doing it, and did not put much effort into his swings. Leon took the training seriously, but did not hit to his full capacity, knowing his target was weaker than he. Elyan still felt badly about the last time when he was possessed by that druid—or so, Arthur assumed, and as a consequence barely hit Merlin at all. Percival, for once, did not knock Merlin down on the first blow, but after several Merlin went to his knees. When he reached out to check the servant's well-being Merlin brushed away his concern. Then it was Arthur's turn. Arthur, who was seeing red. The king looked at this traitor and unleashed a fury on him that he didn't know he had. It took Gwaine and Elyan holding him back and Percival pulling Merlin up and checking for injury for Arthur to come back to himself.

 

He didn't apologize. He didn't feel bad about it at all. This... _thing_ did not deserve his forgiveness after what he had done. He most certainly didn't deserve an apology from a king teaching his wayward servant his place.

 

The fact that the knights were all giving him dirty looks after he ordered Merlin to the stocks did not change his mind, not one iota.

 

However, the knights refused to let his behavior go unquestioned, and the conversation that followed led Arthur to believe that he probably needed more information. Arthur told his closest knights the story in full, once they reached the privacy of his chambers.

 

“Wait, Princess, let me get this straight. You heard a servant say that Merlin and Gwen were together, then they ended things after she was banished?” Gwaine scoffed. Actually scoffed at the accusation.

 

“No, they broke it off after the incident with the Lamia,” Arthur growled.

 

“Sire, that's completely preposterous. We were with them the entire time. They never got up to anything untoward,” Leon chimed in quietly.

 

“Yes, but from your own mouths your recollections of that time are vague at best, Sir Leon.”

 

Elyan stood to the back of the room, silent. Percival stood next to him, whispering something to the other.

 

“Yes? Is there something you two would like to add?” Arthur asked, irritation in his tone.

 

Percival straightened to his full height, which was more intimidating than Arthur liked to admit, before speaking. “If I may speak freely, Sire?” As always, Percival maintained an air of politeness.

 

“Of course, Sir Percival,” Arthur nodded his permission.

 

“You are completely mad.”

 

“ _I think you're mad. I think you're all mad. People should marry for love....”_

 

Arthur shook his head to forget the thought of his manservant's speech to him on the day he would wed Elena. _Was it going on that long ago? Could it have been?_ “I beg your pardon?”

 

“I mean what I said, My Lord. To think that Merlin would betray you like that, it's mad. I know with absolute certainty that there was nothing going on there, and you listening to rumor and worse, acting on rumor will do you no favors.” Percival did not move, did not shout or cry, but his displeasure was known by the brevity of his voice. Arthur looked to Elyan, who held his gaze.

 

“No, My Lord, you do not wish to know my opinion on this,” the knight answered the unasked question quietly, his hands tightening into fists at his sides.

 

“Sir Elyan, I do wish to know. You are all my council, and your opinion is valuable to me.” Arthur felt anger at the knight's posture. To be upset on Merlin's behalf after what he had done to his king....

 

Elyan was not as polite as Percival. “My _opinion_ is that Merlin has always been a good man, and that he and my sister were friends and nothing more, and that you should stop dragging my sister's name through the mud. My _opinion_ is that she had fallen in love with a man long before you ever paid her any mind, and nothing came of it. My _opinion_ is that years later she made a mistake with that same man, and she lost her home, country and family because of it!” Elyan's voice held so much rage, tethered and trapped in his body. His dark eyes stared fiercely into the king's before moving down to the floor. Arthur felt his anger melt to shame at what he was putting his friend through. Of course Elyan must be caught in a hard place, between family and kingdom.

 

“I apologize, Sir Elyan. Anyone who would like to be dismissed from this meeting because of personal feelings preventing objective thought may leave.” Gwaine lifted his head and opened his mouth to argue, then closed it with an audible snap. Quickly, he left the room with Elyan and Percival behind him. Only Leon remained. Arthur sighed.

 

“Sir Leon,” he began, but stopped as the words would not come. The crux of it was Arthur _had been_ listening to rumors. Using half stories and gossip was not enough to formulate a good idea.

 

“Yes, My Lord?” Leon moved to his side.

 

“I believe one thing is clear. I am making judgments based on rumors and not facts,” he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Leon smiled a little at him.

 

“Perhaps you could ask Merlin?” he said quietly. Arthur snorted at that.

 

“I wouldn't be able to believe him if he denied it. No, no I need something more. Something concrete....” a candle wicked to life in Arthur's mind. Something touchable. Something that showed his whether affable servant was innocent or guilty. Arthur needed evidence.

 

“Sir Leon, will you accompany me to Merlin's chambers? I believe I need to look for something there.”

 

* * *

 

 

Arthur and Leon stood silently in Gaius's chambers, looking about. The physician appeared to be absent. Arthur felt a little deceitful, doing this when no one else was present, but there would never be a better opportunity. Leon shuffled awkwardly, then followed the king as he moved into Merlin's room. It was somewhat neat. There were no clothes lying about, implying that he must have tidied recently. Leon moved to the wardrobe, and with a glance at Arthur he carefully opened the doors. The cupboard was fairly empty, holding a carved wooden dragon, Merlin's empty pack, extra bandages, and his clothes. Arthur glanced at the mostly bare cupboard and frowned as he moved to his servant's bed. Somehow, he thought Merlin must have more possessions than that. He moved the pillow, finding a small piece of braided leather, long enough to be a bracelet. He dropped it on the box that served as a table next to the bed before turning up the blankets. When he found nothing he turned to the table with some books and papers laying on it, but Leon had beaten him to it. The knight carefully lifted the books from the table and flipped through the pages before setting them down again. Arthur turned back to the bed and stooped down to the floor to see if the young man tucked anything away there. Surely it was an obvious choice for things to be kept out of sight. Frowning, he reached under the bed while Leon turned to look at him, empty-handed. Arthur stood back up with a curious book in his hands.

 

It was the newest thing he had seen in these chambers. Leather-bound and unmarked, the book was tied closed with a string of leather cord. This was possibly the most expensive thing Merlin owned and judging by the shape it was kept in the young man knew it. Arthur moved his fingers to the tie, almost reverently, and pulled the knot before opening the book and flipping through the pages.

 

It was organized chaos. The first group of pages (the edges of which were marked in a dark black ink) was all about medicine and herb-lore. Arthur turned to a page and after a few minutes of reading his manservant's quick quill strokes, he decided he learned more about yarrow than he ever needed to know, no matter how useful. He flipped forward to another section, the pages edged in red ink (and how Merlin managed to afford that and not save up for a new shirt, Arthur could not guess) which seemed to have notes about local lore and magical creatures. Arthur would be concerned at the content if it weren't something that came in dead useful all the time. He imagined Merlin learned it from other areas, perhaps from Gaius himself, and wrote it down for future reference. One thing Arthur gleaned from this was that Merlin was not as foolish as he made himself appear. Arthur scowled a little. He knew Merlin had a way with words and numbers, and that the peasant could read and write, but overall he did not seem to put his skills to practical use, or so Arthur had thought. This book made him reconsider this. Whoever gave it to him must have already known that about him. Gaius seemed the most likely candidate.

 

The last section was edged in blue ink, and Arthur's eyes widened as he saw the content of the pages. Nearly every page had some text within, waxing on about one topic or another, staunched in imagery and metaphors. Smudged, charcoal sketches lined the margins, some small, some large. Some were magical beasts, like unicorns and dragons. Others were of the knights, Arthur himself, and Guinevere. His eyes narrowed after seeing her face lined on the corner of one of the pages, his mouth twisted into a scowl. With a huff he turned the page and the one behind it, somewhat lose, fell out. Arthur reached down and reviewed the marks. No drawings on this page, but a small poem graced the paper, and pressed in the book directly behind it was a small blue flower. Guinevere wore flowers like this in her hair recently. The pieces slowly fell together and solidified everything Arthur had hoped wasn't true. It was a unique flower, and one that Guinevere hadn't worn before. Guinevere had even said she got them from Merlin. This was only a few weeks ago, just before they were called away from Camelot by Guinevere's friends. He was so blind and trusting that this could happen right in front of his face. He wondered how much they must have laughed at him for his stupidity. His eyes snapped back to the page in his hand, and he quickly read it. A love poem, obviously written in Merlin's hand, telling a tale of longing and... bad weather. _Oh this poetry business is rubbish. The histories are one thing, but this...._

 

“My Lord?” Leon asked quietly. Arthur turned to the redhead, mulling over the words on the page in his hand. Suddenly Arthur wanted to thrash Merlin within an inch of his life. Snarky, stupid Merlin who apparently wasn't so stupid. Steadfast, loyal Merlin who couldn't be called either of those things anymore ever again. Lancelot's betrayal stung, but this tore into Arthur like dull shears ripping through fabric. Merlin was supposed to be his friend. How could he do this? Arthur ripped out the drawing of Guinevere vehemently.

 

“Thank you, Sir Leon,” Arthur gritted out, gathering the sketch, poem, and blue flower. Quickly he left Merlin's room, Leon following behind him. Neither made a move to put the room to rights.

 

* * *

 

 

“Sire, surely this is unnecessary. I'm not sure the information you gathered really warrants banishment!” Leon nearly shouted. He was pleading with his king to see reason. There was a sharp knock at the door before Gwaine, Percival, and Elyan came in, finally responding to Arthur's summons. Arthur glowered at them as they entered, annoyed at being kept waiting. Gwaine looked over at Leon.

 

“Has he come to his senses yet?” Leon glanced between Arthur and Gwaine, unsure how to answer the question without making his king look completely unreasonable. Gwaine took it for the answer it was before glowering right back at the blonde.

 

“I have evidence! A sketch, and a flower I know Guinevere wore in her hair recently, and a poem!” Arthur crowed, slamming the pages on the corner of his table before spinning around and staring out his windows. He turned his head back and saw the three newcomers gathered at the edge of the desk, watching Percival finger the flower gently while Elyan picked up the sketch that was torn from Merlin's notebook. Arthur looked at the setting sun again. Merlin was due to arrive with his supper soon. He hadn't said a word after he came out of the stocks, but no matter. Arthur had everything he needed to confront his manservant.

 

Gwaine scoffed. “So he drew a picture of Gwen! So what?”

 

“He's drawn pictures of all of us. He even has a picture of a unicorn in his notebook,” Percival added quietly. “He's shown some of them to me.”

 

“Gwen told me of a time she gave Merlin some flowers many years ago, and since then they have often traded them back and forth as some kind of joke,” Elyan chimed in. “Besides, the man likes flowers. I've seen him admiring the garden's several times, and sometimes when he stumbles upon some pretty wild flowers, he gathers them and hands them to the serving girls.”

 

“He's come up with some poems while we've been hunting or patrolling. Just sits there on his docile little mare and talks about how everything is teeming with life and is bigger than itself. It's not unusual that he would write them down later,” Gwaine growled.

 

Arthur spun around. “Enough! I told you what I heard his peers say. I showed you proof! What will convince you?”

 

The knights stared at him, slightly aghast.

 

“My Lord,” Leon stepped forward gently, as though approaching a startled horse. “it is not us that you need to convince. We are your knights and loyal to the crown,”

 

“Speak for yourself, mate,” Gwaine muttered. Arthur glanced sharply at him, but returned his attention to Leon when the older man continued.

 

“but Sire, please, I implore you... if you have any doubts whatsoever about your accusation, perhaps you should speak to Merlin and hear his side before deciding to banish him from the kingdom!” Leon ended, somewhat harshly. Arthur blinked before turning and facing the windows again, rage diminishing in the face of his knights' blunt but needed council.

 

“Thank you for your thoughts.”

 

“Sire—”

 

“My Lord—”

 

“You are all dismissed.”

 

Arthur listed to the shuffling behind him, not turning until the door shut. He leaned forward against the back of his chair, eyes closed, hand grasping the headrest, until he heard the creaking of the latch. He looked up to see Merlin gingerly easing the door open with his shoulder, carefully holding Arthur's supper tray in his hands. After he cleared the doorway he looked up and paused his movements when he saw Arthur standing. Then he looked down to the tray and moved forward, only stopping so he could lower it onto the table in front of the king. Merlin glanced up again, then lowered his head and stepped carefully back and to the side. Arthur frowned, staring at the tray in front of him. There to the side was another honeycake, reminding the man of what started this in the first place. Arthur sighed and looked up at Merlin, who was still staring resolutely at the floor.

 

“Merlin,” Arthur started. Merlin lifted his head but didn't make eye contact. He was acting like a proper servant, which disturbed Arthur more than he could possibly say. It helped him keep his anger at bay. The king cleared his throat before moving forward. “Merlin, I know.”

 

Merlin's head snapped up and he spun his head toward Arthur so quickly it cricked. Arthur stared into Merlin's face, watching his lips part and his eyes widen with fear. Arthur squeezed his eyes shut. This was the confirmation he needed, but now knew he didn't want.

 

“Know?” Merlin whispered.

 

“Yes. I know,” Arthur hissed, anger taking root once more.

 

Merlin stayed quiet for a moment before speaking again, as if carefully choosing his words. “Know what?”

 

Arthur slammed his fist against the table, making Merlin jump. Good. Let the traitor squirm. “Really, Merlin? You're going to make me say it?”

 

“.... Say what?” The manservant was not going to give an inch on this. Arthur could hardly blame him. To openly admit you had a tryst with the king's betrothed was suicide, really.

 

“Fine, Merlin, I'll spell it out for you,” Arthur moved around the table until he was directly in front of the raven-haired man. Merlin held Arthur's gaze and swallowed a little but made no sound as Arthur approached. “I know about you and Guinevere,” Arthur whispered harshly.

 

Merlin blinked and opened his mouth before closing it again. Then he shook his head a little and repeated the motion. Finally some words seemed to come to the idiot servant. “I'm sorry, what?”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“I just, I need you to repeat that. I'm not sure I caught it.”

 

Of all the reactions Merlin could have, this right here was the least expected. Arthur knew the man was good at playing stupid, but this was exceptional.

 

“Merlin! I _know!_ I know about you and Guinevere and your affair!” Arthur shouted spinning around and stepping away. He calmed himself by taking several deep breaths, but was soon distracted by a choked, snuffling noise behind him. Arthur turned back to his manservant to see the man hunched over with an arm wrapped around his stomach and the opposite fist in his mouth. His shoulder's shook slightly, and the edges of his mouth were turned up in a smile. This fool was laughing at him!

 

“MERLIN!” Arthur cried. Merlin pulled the fist from his mouth and held it out toward Arthur to attempt to placate him, openly guffawing.

 

“You think... me and Gwen?! Ha... Oh Gods Arthur you can't _actually_ think that,” Merlin dissolved into helpless giggles, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. Arthur once again felt the anger suddenly flow away, this time to be replaced with befuddlement. He scowled a little, trying to regain control of this confrontation.

 

“I heard! I heard it from a servant's mouth! I know you two were—”

 

“From who?” Merlin asked, wiping his eyes, laughter still dancing in them. “What servant in their right mind thinks Gwen and I had some kind of involvement?” Merlin chuckled for a moment and stared at Arthur with a small smile on his face, as if waiting for the king to say, “Fooled you!” When Arthur continued to scowl at him, the smile on his face died and the light in his eyes took on a startled, then angry glint. “You actually believe that? Arthur who do you think I am!?” Merlin said with a slight edge. “I would never, ever do that to you. How could you think that?” Now his tone was hurt.

 

“Well I thought Guinevere never could do that to me, but I was wrong there, wasn't I?” The hurt shown through more than Arthur anticipated.

 

“I keep trying to tell you Arthur, I think she was enchan—” Arthur lifted a hand to stop Merlin's words.

 

“Merlin! I am tired of hearing that excuse,” Arthur seethed, shaking the blonde hair from his eyes. Blue eyes staring back at him widened at the king's tirade. “The truth is she betrayed me. She humiliated me in front of the entire kingdom. I had to go through so much to be able to propose to the woman! Then she turned around and did that. I would love to believe it was an enchantment, but we both know she had feelings for Lancelot. It is not so surprising that she would act on them!” Merlin stood stock-still for a few moments, letting the words wash over him. Arthur took deep breaths and turned to his table to grab the pages he found in Merlin's room. “I want to trust you Merlin. I want to believe you had nothing to do with Guinevere,” he needed to confront Merlin with his findings, “but I have evidence that says otherwise.” Merlin's word would do no good until Arthur saw his reaction to the papers, but as he stared at the table where the documents were lain, he saw they had vanished.

 

Merlin rocked on his heels and looked over where Arthur was glaring at his desk. “Uh... what evidence?” Arthur started to shift the items on his desk around. It was recently neatened by George so he knew there was no way they could have been shuffled with his court documents. He looked under some books and under the tray Merlin had set down. Upon seeing nothing there, he slammed the tray on the table, jostling the pitcher of wine. “Oi! I have to clean that up if it spills, be careful!”

 

“They were here! They were _right here_! The flower and the drawing and that wretched poem! Where did they go!?” He spun around to face Merlin whose face had taken on a pink tinge. The anger was back in full force, blazing through Merlin's cold blue eyes as his eyebrows drew together and his mouth sunk into a frown.

 

“What are you talking about?” he asked calmly. Arthur almost took a step back at the cool tone before remembering himself.

 

“I had to be sure,” he started.

 

“Arthur?” Merlin growled. He actually growled at his king. Arthur straightened his shoulders and stood tall. He would not feel ashamed of his earlier actions. He was justified.

 

“I went to your room to search for proof of your misconduct.”

 

“That was you!?” Merlin shouted, flailing his arms up.

 

“It's my right as King!”

 

“I thought we had been robbed! I came home from the bloody stocks,” Arthur's eyebrows raised at the colorful language, “and found my room in that state! My cupboards were open, and my sheets were astray and my notebook,” Merlin stopped suddenly, shutting his mouth and glancing to the side. His head was tilted as if in thought. Then he looked up, wide-eyed and hurt. “Did you... did you go through my _notebook_ , Arthur?” Arthur felt his face heat up. He knew he was flushing with embarrassment, and no matter how much he tried to tell himself he was right, seeing the betrayed look on Merlin's face sent a tingle of shame through his gut. “Arthur, that was _private_. I have things written in there that I don't share with anyone!” the servant whispered harshly. Suddenly a look of dawning comprehension passed over his fair features, blue eyes widening. “That's why you extended my chores! And made me target practice! Gods above, Arthur, that's why you put me in the stocks!? For some imagined slight against you? With Gwen!? I can't even believe this!” Merlin was shouting now, stomping to the door.

 

“Merlin I am not finished—” Arthur tried to call his servant back as the young man reached for the door handle. Merlin spun to him, livid, hand still gripping the door.

 

“Well I _am_ finished! I'm finished until you come back to your senses! Quit seeing enemies in your friends and traitors at every turn! I have not stayed here so long and worked for you as hard as I have to end up serving another Uther!” On this Merlin pulled open the door and slammed it behind him. Arthur stood in the silence for a moment before swiftly moving to his bed. He pulled a pillow off the mattress and screamed into it, then threw it back down. Now he had no idea what to do and where to turn. He still seethed, believing somewhere in his heart the he had been betrayed by his best friend, but Merlin's reaction heavily indicated otherwise. Now he lost the items he needed to make the man confess. Arthur groaned as he sat down and poured himself a goblet of wine. It would be a long night.

 

* * *

 

 

Arthur came awake gradually the following morning. His curtains were opened, letting in the morning light. When the king sat up, he noticed his clothes were laid out over the changing screen, his wash bowl stood on the small end table in front of the mirror with a steaming pitcher of water beside it, and his breakfast was set neatly at his table. The remnants of his dinner tray were long gone, and his clothes were sitting in his laundry basket as opposed to the floor where he left them. Apparently, Merlin _could_ act like a proper servant and move silently about when he wanted. Arthur scoffed at the thought. More likely Merlin passed his duties to a different servant this morning. He grumbled and stretched, moving to the water. After quickly and halfheartedly washing his face, he moved behind the changing screen to dress. After a few minutes of rummaging through his clothes he heard a tentative knock at the door before the hinges creaked. Arthur was mostly decent and paid it no mind. Most likely it was whatever servant Merlin had sent in his place. Arthur finished pulling his blue tunic over his head and emerged from behind the screen, only to see Mithian standing beside his open door, dressed in a handsome blue dress that somehow managed to compliment the tone of his tunic. He glanced at her attire then back up at her, commenting on the coincidence.

 

“Oh, well it's not quite a coincidence. Anna bumped into Merlin on his way to your chambers, and she asked if there was anything for you to wear that would match. He said he would see what he could do. I'm pleased to see he kept his word,” she smiled. At Merlin's name he frowned again. So he was subtler than Arthur gave him credit for. This won no favors. If anything, the complete changing of his behavior marked his guilt. He obviously lied about his capabilities here, always acting like a friendly idiot unless there were important visitors... present.... _Damn._ What could he do about the man? He was even more lost than he was the day before, and he was no closer to determining what course of action he should take with Merlin.

 

“How are you this morning, Mithian?” Arthur asked cordially. Mithian raised an eyebrow at his tone.

 

“Alright, what's wrong now? Are you still upset with your servant? I wish you would tell me what's going on,” she reprimanded lightly. “One moment you're upset because he's upset about something and won't share it with you. The next you're exceedingly angry with him over something that you refuse to explain, which is seemingly nothing so far.”

 

“I'm not upset over nothing!” Arthur knew he sounded petulant, but he was tired and aggravated and his head ached from the wine. There was no helping it. Mithian raised a single brow and Arthur stopped his rant before it could begin.

 

“Well, I was going to ask how you made up, because he seems to be much more jovial today, according to Anna. They had a lovely conversation this morning, and he only soured a little when she asked about your clothing. Otherwise he's cloud walking, she says,” Mithian smiled at this. Arthur hadn't heard the phrase and tried to parse it's meaning before openly showing his confusion on his face, prompting her for an explanation. Mithian laughed at his expression. “Cloud walking is a phrase my servant is rather fond of. She says it's akin to being in love. You're so happy you're floating. I think she made it up, to be honest,” she added in a conspiratorial whisper. Immediately Arthur thought of Merlin's strange idioms, like clotpole.

 

“Well that can't be right. Merlin and I had a disagreement last night,” that was putting it lightly. He didn't think he'd ever seen Merlin that furious over something before. Arthur could not for the life of him figure out why his servant would be in such a good mood this morning. “I do not wish to discuss it,” he added, watching Mithian's appearance turn curious. He was unwilling to explain himself. Mithian hummed in thought a little, looking out into the corridor and back to Arthur. Arthur sighed. “What is it?”

 

“Well, would you like to know? Since you obviously are not in a position to ask?”

 

Arthur wasn't sure why he followed the impish princess down one of the less frequently used passages she swore she saw Merlin disappear in on her way to the king's rooms. Arthur felt so much more discomfort this time than the first time. He saw firsthand how Merlin took the violation of his privacy. He still felt he was in the right, but Arthur could understand a little better the consequences of this action. His curiosity got the better of him though, and he followed the small woman in front of him, quickly and efficiently flying down the secret hall. Finally they came to a stop at a closed door and eased it open, seeing it was concealed by a tapestry. Somehow, they ended up in the washroom. Both Arthur and Mithian peeked around the edge of the hanging to view the brightly lit room before them, seeing Merlin and George standing silently side by side, each washing some dishes. An older woman bustled past them and dropped some more dishes on George's tray, smiling at the two of them.

 

“My goodness, little Falcon, what are you doing in here washing dishes? Haven't I told you, you don't need to mind the king's cutlery?” she chastised him lightly, swatting the back of his head with a rag swung over her shoulder. Arthur had to admit to himself, he wasn't sure who she was. He didn't know many of the staff persons. The exceptions were the steward, the stable master, and the weapons master. The rest seemed fairly interchangeable.

 

“I know, Sara. George saw me in here and let me know he's a little behind, and I don't have an awful lot to do right now so I said I would help,” Merlin said kindly to the woman, bowing his head back over the dishes.

 

“Bless you, dearie. And George, darling, are you alright? You're not catching ill, are you? Because I won't have it near my staff!” her scolding caused George's neck and ears to redden. “Besides, love, you can take a day if you need to. We won't miss you for only a day,” her tone softened as she looked George over. George straightened quickly, looking this Sara woman in the eye.

 

“Thank you, Stewardess, but I will be fine. I merely overslept this morning,” George said stiffly. Arthur winced. The _stewardess_ , of course. He knew that.

 

“ _You_ overslept?” Merlin asked in disbelief, his smile still bright on his face.

 

“Yes, Merlin. I don't see why you're saying anything. You oversleep at least once a week,” George grumbled, grabbing a stack of the new dishes and passing them to Arthur's manservant. Merlin grinned back cheekily as he took the stack.

 

“Yeah, well that's me though, isn't it? Not unusual for me. You on the other hand, well it could be a sign of the end of days,” Merlin chuckled. Sara swatted him again with her towel.

 

“Don't blaspheme!” She said sternly. A small woman with red locks escaping her head covering came in.

 

“Sara! I've been looking everywhere for the clean linens for Lord Aeron's rooms? You know how particular he is about those bloody sheets. Do you know where they got off to?” Arthur recognized this voice. This was one of the girls who he overheard the other day with Mithian.

 

“Don't swear, Erin,” Ah, the one who forgot the flints. “They are in the usual place. They were dried last night and put away, like always,” Sara said firmly, tucking an escaped stray hair she noticed back into the dirty-blonde knot on her head. Arthur looked at the chaotic twist of hair and thought this had to be a losing battle.

 

“Oh, the cupboard. Alright, I'll get right on it,” she smiled, jumping up onto the wooden edge of the basin. “Hi Falcon,” she greeted Merlin warmly. What kind of a nickname was that? Was Merlin so difficult that they couldn't manage to remember it? Arthur wondered if they would begin calling him _Bird_ next.

 

“Child, you will get your dress wet, and what will King Arthur say if he sees you in that state!” Sara cried irately.

 

“I'm not a child, Sara. Besides, he won't see me in this state,” Erin said with ease, kicking her feet in the air.

 

“He's in a state enough of his own to even notice the wet dress of a noble, let alone a servant,” Merlin grumbled. George dropped a dish into the basin and all three staff stared at Merlin, waiting for more. After a few moments he looked up from the bowl he began vigorously attacking to warily eye the three people staring at him. Arthur raised his eyebrow, and Mithian held her breath a little, waiting to see what Merlin would say. “What?” he asked, somewhat dumbfounded.

 

Sara sighed. “Well come on then, boy, out with it.”

 

“Out with what?”

 

“What did the king do this time?” Erin asked excitedly. Merlin's stories must be quite good to generate so much enthusiasm. Arthur scowled as he watched them. Mithian smirked at him.

 

“Nothing. Nothing that bears repeating, anyway,” Merlin was back to viciously scrubbing the dishes in his basin.

 

“Oh come now, Merlin,” George—proper, perfectly polite, best servant in all of Camelot, George—tutted, turning fully to face Arthur's servant. “We haven't heard a good 'The king is a prat' story in quite a while now.” Arthur's jaw dropped. Did George just call him a prat?

“Did you just call King Arthur a prat?” Merlin asked with a small smile on his face. George stiffened again but held his ground. Merlin smiled wider. “Well, you're right. But don't worry, George I won't say anything.”

 

“Come on, Merlin, tell us!” Erin insisted. She scooted off the counter and stared at Merlin plaintively, leaning up toward him and clearly batting her eyelashes. Merlin laughed heartily at that. Arthur was shocked for a moment. He hadn't realized how long it had been since the man laughed properly with him. He was so angry yesterday that he hadn’t really noticed it at the time, but it had been a few weeks, hadn't it? The sound made his heart clench a little. He hadn't realized how much he had missed it.

 

“You wouldn't believe me if I told you,” Merlin said, tone completely serious. Arthur turned to Mithian.

 

“Is that the way all gossip starts amongst servants?” he whispered as the servants all twittered at Merlin, insisting he tell them what happened. Mithian covered her mouth to hide her giggle and gestured for quiet.

 

“Alright. It's stupid. You won't even believe this. You know how for the past day or so, Arthur has been a little boorish to everyone?” Merlin began. Arthur flushed. He hadn't realized his turmoil was affecting the staff. After receiving several nods, Merlin continued. “Well it turns out that somehow he got it into his head that I had some kind of _liaison_ with Gwen behind his back.” Merlin shook his head, frowning.

 

There was a beat of silence.

 

“You and Gwen?” Sara asked incredulously.

 

“Has he _met_ you and Gwen?” Erin laughed outright. This startled Arthur, as he knew she was one of the girls who he heard the first piece of gossip from in the first place.

 

“That is the most preposterous thing I have ever heard!” George was apparently beside himself.

 

“I know, right? That's what I said when he confronted me about it. Apparently, he heard some servant gossiping about the two of us having some torrid love affair.”

 

“What servant would possibly think that?” Sara frowned.

 

“A stupid one,” Erin muttered.

 

Arthur was so sure he understood what was said and what happened. He heard the story and saw proof written in Merlin's own hand! Even Merlin's reaction to being confronted, while odd, was not soothing or innocent. This new talk was something of a revelation, causing Arthur to revisit the puzzle he was certain he solved already.

 

“I don't know and it's driving me mad! It's bad enough that the king can just send her away from everything she knows and holds dear,” Merlin seethed, turning back to the wash basin and clutched the heavy wooden edge. “But now he has to add insult to injury? Hasn't she been punished enough for her transgression? Honestly, he's lucky Elyan hasn't punched him yet. Hell, he's lucky _I_ haven't punched him yet, but I'm not a blacksmith, so it would probably have less impact.”

 

“Careful, dovey,” Erin patted Merlin's arm gently. “That talk will border on treason.”

 

Merlin's shoulders sagged quite suddenly, and his head was bowed. “I know, I know but.... it's _Gwen._ After everything she did for him and everything she went through. Like he was doing this _common girl_ some favor by courting her all that time,” Merlin's fury was quiet, but cut sharply. Mithian stared up at Arthur with wide eyes and his cheeks colored. So much for keeping that a secret. “She never knew if he was coming or going. One moment he was courting her, the next he would say nothing could come of it, and all the while half the staff had decided she was some kind of trollop, winning King Arthur's favor in his bed!” Arthur almost revealed himself at that to demand who would sully her honor this way. “Now this? She's my best friend, and she didn't deserve that.” _Best friend?_ “But... but it's _Arthur,_ and he's my king and I am loyal to him and always will be. It's.... This is one of the hardest positions I've been in.”

 

There was a strained silence for a moment.

 

“Are you including the time you met that servant in the stables during the Winter Solstice and had to try to keep your feet off the ice?” Erin asked with a cheeky grin to break the tension.

 

“Erin!” Sara cried, swatting her with that towel while Merlin bent over and howled with laughter. George covered his mouth with one hand and clutched his side with the other. Now Arthur was blushing for an entirely different reason. He was so ashamed and embarrassed. Mithian's cheeks now colored too, but she hadn't tried to share a look with him until the truth about Guinevere came out. Then out of the corner of his eye she saw him glance up at him. He saw her mouth _“Stables in Midwinter?”_ and had to work hard not to snort. The relief was palpable. A weight was lifted off his shoulders. Merlin never betrayed him. He was upset because Guinevere was gone because they were friends. Good friends. _Best_ friends, apparently. Merlin was still faithful to him. It did not lessen the wound still in his heart, but it did help him breathe easier, knowing Merlin was the same, loyal, idiot servant he always was.

 

“What are you all laughing about?” The youngest one of the lot traipsed in, a small blonde thing who couldn't be more than 20 with a nasal breathy voice that Arthur recognized. Ah, this was the other chambermaid.

 

“Merlin's seedy history,” George said, causing the Stewardess and Erin to snicker.

 

“Oh, go polish a button, George,” he teased back, splashing some water at George's face. The ladies went from snickering to giggling.

 

The newcomer smiled deviously. “I'm glad to see you're in such a good mood, Merlin. Although I'm hardly surprised,” she said slyly. Arthur raised a brow at this as Merlin turned to fully face the new girl, confusion etched in his features.

 

“What are you talking about, Mary?” Erin asked, recognizing the glint in the girl's eye. Her lips curled into a small, mischievous smile.

 

“Well I just mean it's not very surprising that Merlin is in high spirits today, is all.” Merlin cocked his head at her, eyebrows furrowed. The others looked back and forth between the two. Mary sighed. “I mean, I just happened to be doing my night duties last night, stoking the fires, and on my last room I noticed some noises inside,” her mouth was pressed in a secret smile, and Merlin started to blush. “Noises that sounded _quite_ amorous. And I may have heard someone _moan_ our little Falcon's name here—”

 

“Mary!” Merlin shouted as Sara and Erin gasped and turned to face him directly. Mary laughed outright. “Gods, woman, you have less shame than a harlot in a back alley!” he said, turning back to his dishes. The mouth on his servant today! Arthur wondered if maybe he did have the proper version of Merlin, after all. He was half tempted to drag Mithian away from such vile language.

 

“And yet, you have less shame than me, so how do you make out in the comparison?” Mary threw right back. Merlin chuckled and shook his head, but the others would not be dissuaded.

 

“Oh it isn't someone new, is it?” Arthur watched Sara wring her hands nervously. “Because love, you ought not be rushing into anything.”

 

Merlin just smirked and tapped one of his toes a little. “Oh Sara, come now. You know I don't like to kiss and tell.”

 

Mary snickered and grinned at them. “That's alright, Merlin. I'm happy to tell. The room was giveaway enough, but I'm mostly sure they made up, considering I heard Merlin say—”

 

“MARY!” Merlin looked scandalized, and he threw water at her which she batted at, laughing voraciously. “Gods, the mouth on you,” he muttered turning bright red.

 

“Funny, that's what I heard you say last night.” Erin shrieked with laughter at the witty blonde's statement. Sara and George were also laughing, but in a more dignified manner. Merlin hid his face in his hands. Mithian's face was bright red now and she looked at Arthur, scandalized. Arthur himself was not sure what to make of the nightly activities of his servant.

 

“Oh, no you have to tell us, Merlin, don't hide!” Erin insisted, trying to pull his hands away from his face. When they were finally removed, Arthur could see his usually pale friend was as red as he would be if he spent a day in the summer sun.

 

“Yes,” George added. “This is very good news. I am happy you two have reconciled.”

 

So Merlin did have a girl. One that all the servants seemed to know about. A girl who wasn't Guinevere, but who was most likely someone she knew about, because she and Merlin were best friends. Arthur frowned and thought about what his friend lost when he banished her. Merlin didn't confide in many. Guinevere understood his station better than any of the knights, and better than Arthur could.

 

“Wait, you're happy for us?” Merlin asked curiously. George turned back to his chore, resuming the washing as if nothing happened.

 

“Well of course I am. I like it when things neat and organized. You two fighting was... out of order. It did not bode well for my peace of mind,” George said primly. Merlin gaped at him for a moment before he also turned back to wash more dishes.

 

“Oh, come on, Merlin! Even George said something nice about this. You have to tell us what happened!” Erin was like a dog with a bone. She held on strong and would not let go. After a small chorus of “yes,” and “tell us,” from the others, Merlin cleared his throat.

 

“Alright, alright,” he said, not turning around. Arthur was caught up as well, wanting to know what even happened, and how it was resolved. His curiosity could not seem to be sated at this point. Mithian leaned forward, holding her breath again. “So, as you know we may have gotten into a fight recently,” George nodded solemnly while the ladies mumbled a bit. “Well, it's possible that we had a heart-to-heart yesterday,” he said, pulling his hands from the water and setting them against the counter edge. “And afterward, we may have made up, and you lot know how I like to make up.” There was a rough edge to Merlin's voice that implied there was more to making up with a lover than words and kisses. Merlin cleared his throat.

 

“And I may have said 'I love you.'” Merlin said, quietly. Arthur watched as Mary tilted her head up, eyes wide with shock. Sara brought a hand to her chest and placed it over her heart. George stopped all movement, standing stock still and looking at Merlin's profile, and Erin bounced on the balls of her feet, waiting for whatever came next, although Arthur wasn't sure what that could be.

 

“And I may have heard it back.”

 

Mithian let out a quiet gasp and surreptitiously wiped some wetness from the corner of her eye. Suddenly the chamber filled with shrieks and laughter as the girls all practically leaped onto Merlin. George reached over and patted his arm shouting “good show!” over the cacophony of female voices. Arthur heard several people speaking all at once.

 

“Oh my God, yes! It's about bloody time!”

 

“I can't believe you said it first! Falcon, I'm so proud of you!”

 

“When will the hand-fasting be? There _must_ be a hand-fasting before spring ends, otherwise it's bad luck!”

 

“There won't be a hand-fasting!” Merlin laughed heartily. “Who would come to our hand-fasting? Who would even _perform_ our hand-fasting!”

 

“But there must be! And the servants will come, and some of the knights even. Gaius could oversee everything and marry you! Oh happy day!”

 

“You lot have gone 'round the bend, haven't you!” Merlin shouted over them, shoving the ladies off of him, but grinning like a fool all the while. Arthur grabbed Mithian's hand and pulled her back up the passage.

 

* * *

 

 

“So,” Mithian began as they walked along corridor to her chambers, “your heart belongs to another.” It was a statement. Arthur sighed as he walked at her side.

 

“I was very much in love with someone who betrayed me with what I thought was a loyal friend,” he murmured. “I banished her, and have been very disheartened since. Part of me wonders if I had acted rashly, but the rest of me knows that since she betrayed me, I can never trust her again, even if I am able to forgive her.”

 

Mithian pondered his statement for a moment. “Nevertheless, is now the time for you to be looking for a wife and queen?”

 

Arthur looked at her, abashed. “I need an heir. I am of an age where it is necessary to wed.” Mithian glanced at him and Arthur wilted slightly. “Besides, my council—my uncle—is most insistent.”

 

Mithian shook her head and smiled. “It is _your_ well-being I worry for, Arthur, and I know that you worry for the needs of Camelot, but I implore you to be selfish in this one aspect. It is quite a difficult thing to get over a broken heart, and I fear in your haste to do well for your kingdom that you will overlook something imperative to your own self, and the repercussions will have a magnitude you cannot foresee. You are young yet. There is time,” she said it firmly, but kindly. It was sound advice. Arthur couldn't help but wonder if she would make a good mother as well as a good queen. “I myself, must say that while I came here looking for a friendship in our potential match, I cannot in good conscience seek out alliance while you are in such despair.” Arthur knew she without a doubt she would make a magnificent queen. “Perhaps, one day, things will be different,” she said wistfully.

 

“Perhaps,” he said as they finally came upon her door.

 

“I suppose I must depart tomorrow,” she said quietly.

 

“No, My Lady, surely you do not have to leave so quickly,” Mithian held out her hand, stopping Arthur mid-sentence.

 

“My Lord, I must leave soon. You are a kind man, but I know that my being here is not helpful to you, at least not now. We shall discuss it over supper tonight, or perhaps tomorrow morning before I depart.” Arthur hadn't realized until just now, but they had fallen on their titles once again, and propriety took place even in privacy.

 

“Until supper then, My Lady,” Mithian nodded and entered her chambers, gently shutting the door behind her. Arthur sighed as he made way to his own rooms. He had a lot to discuss, and he owed Merlin an apology. He only hoped it would be enough to repair whatever damage he wreaked on their friendship.

 

* * *

  

Arthur saw from the corner of his eye a tray with his lunch was being lowered onto his table. He looked up at Merlin, whose face was completely still. The dark-haired man carefully filled Arthur's goblet and organized cutlery before quickly picking up the laundry basket and heading back to the door. “Merlin, wait.” The servant paused before slowly turning around, no hint of expression on his face. Arthur sighed inwardly. This would be difficult. He gestured toward a chair on the other side of his table. “Would you care to have a seat?” A peace offering if there ever was one.

 

Merlin glanced at the chair, then stared blankly at the wall behind the king. “Thank you, Sire, but I prefer to stand,” he said, a hint of coldness in his voice. Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose.

 

“Just sit down, Merlin.” Merlin waited a moment before setting down the basket. He made his way to the proffered chair and sat at the very edge, ready for flight at a moment's notice, living up to his namesake. The silence was palpable. Despite the awkwardness of the position he found himself in, having to apologize—which had never been an easy feat for him—Arthur found the tension to be too much to remain quiet for long.

 

“So,” Arthur began, somewhat helplessly. Merlin still did not deign to look at him. Arthur cleared his throat. “So... I may have jumped to some conclusions after hearing a few servants gossiping,” he began, trying to catch Merlin's gaze, despite the fact that the younger man refused to make eye contact. Merlin's hands clenched slightly into fists before relaxing, but he still kept his mouth shut. He was not going to be helpful in the least with this. “So I must apologize to you,” he let out in a rush. Merlin snapped his eyes to him for a moment before settling them back on the wall behind him. He still did not speak. Arthur was at a loss. Surely Merlin understood how hard this was for the king, “for treating you poorly, and not listening to you. As well as for going through your things without your permission.” A blush crept up Merlin's neck at that. “I hope you can forgive my transgressions.” Arthur sighed after he let that out and closed his eyes. He felt better for apologizing, and Merlin knew him well enough to know everything he meant by that, the things left unsaid. All that was left was for Merlin to forgive him, so they could get back to their normal antics and banter—

 

“That's it?” Arthur snapped his eyes open at the incredulous tone to find himself staring into those fiery eyes. Merlin was _beyond_ angry with him, but at least he was looking at him again, so that was a start. Arthur was slightly stunned and rendered speechless. After a nod of his head, Merlin's mouth dropped open a bit and he shook his head slightly, standing up. “That's _it?!_ ” he was almost shouting now. “You doubled my chores, made me target practice, shoved me into the stocks _after_ making me target practice—which by the way, left a crick in my neck and a cramp in my leg that I _still_ haven't been able to get rid of—then violated my privacy as if my word meant absolutely _nothing_ to you, as if my loyalty and service was no better than the dung you have me muck out of your stables, and that's all you have to say about it?!” Merlin drew a breath and threw his hands up. “ _'I hope you can forgive my transgressions?'_ That's all you have to say? For being a pompous, ridiculous, arrogant _ass_?” Merlin was pacing the room now but made no attempt to leave. Arthur stood up.

 

“Hey!”

  
“Hey what?!” Merlin roared, rounding on Arthur. The visage he was presented with made Arthur truly believe that Merlin could and would strike him if he weren't careful, which flabbergasted the king.

 

“That is hardly called for! The items I found were suspicious!” Arthur spluttered “They supported the rumor—”

 

“THERE IS NO RUMOR! YOU MADE UP THE RUMOR!”

 

“No I didn't. I may have misunderstood what I heard, since it was only part of a conversation—” Merlin laughed out right at that, “—and in hindsight I can see that I should have thought that through a little more, but you must understand my position!”

 

Merlin stopped laughing and spun around, incensed. “Your position? You honestly believe there is something you can say here that will put you in the right in this?”

 

Arthur stayed silent for a moment before hanging his head with a sigh. “No, no Merlin there isn't,” he said, feeling true regret for his actions. “I overreacted. I found Guinevere's ring in the woods, and nothing else has been on my mind. I have tried to make this work between myself and Mithian, but after that hunt....” Arthur swallowed, collecting himself. He could not show weakness here, he knew, but his heart broke all over again, thinking of his love. “I know now that even if I were to try to... to make an alliance through a marriage, even if I never see Guinevere again, I know that I need to take some time to think things through and gain some closure. I hadn't done that, and unfortunately lashed out at you, and I am sorry for it, sorrier than I've been for anything.” Arthur kept his head down for a moment longer, waiting for Merlin to continue shouting, or to leave his chambers and never forgive him.

 

“Dollop-head,” Arthur lifted his head to stare at his manservant. Merlin was still frowning, looking at the floor, scuffing the toes of his boots against the stone, clearly still upset, but that idiotic pet name gave him more hope than he felt he deserved.

 

“Merlin?” The servant held out his hand, silently asking for Arthur to wait a moment. Finally he raised his head and looked Arthur in the eye.

 

“Just, give me some time, alright? I'm really not ready to forgive you. I can't believe you went through my notebook and took things from it. You completely disrespected me by looking at it,” Merlin paused, thinking over his words. “However, I can understand why you felt that way. I know you're a bit emotionally-stunted, and you're still getting over Gwen, and your uncle won't get off your back about it.” Arthur frowned at this and Merlin raised an eyebrow. “What? He won’t! Besides, now isn't the time to be indignant on his behalf. We'll, uh... we'll work on it. Get back to where we were, yeah? Just don't do it again?” Arthur nodded his acquiescence, almost eagerly. “Good. Alright. Good. I'm just gonna take this laundry and get started on it, alright?”

 

“Alright,” Arthur breathed out, immensely relieved. Merlin moved back to the basket and picked it up, moving toward the door. “Merlin?” Merlin paused, turning back to Arthur. The king opened his mouth, ready to say anything to explain and defend his actions or possibly to beg forgiveness. He wanted to ask a number of things like why he kept the flower or who the poem about. Thankfully his brain caught up with him, and it reminded him that he needed to choose his battles with his servant. “.... Thank you. You really are more than I deserve, for a servant.”

 

Merlin had the cheek to roll his eyes. He turned back to the door and continued on his way. “More of a friend than you deserve,” he muttered as he pulled open the door and started to let himself out.

 

“Too right,” Arthur murmured, just as quietly. Arthur thought for a moment that Merlin didn't hear him, but the sudden redness to his outrageous ears said otherwise as he quietly shut the chamber door behind him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Huzzah, you made it! I hope I did Arthur and Mithian justice. I know the end doesn't mesh well with the end of the episode, since he does that whole "blacksmith's daughter" reveal, but for this let's just assume that they talk more that night and the next morning, and Mithian is just making _absolutely_ sure that Arthur is okay with her leaving and that their alliance is subject to other factors. 
> 
> Anyway, if any of you want to know who Merlin's lover is, just pop on over to find me on FFN under the penname Onee-san. You'll find the other stories. Otherwise, it will be revealed once I post the next one in this series on this site. 
> 
> Thanks for reading. Please feel free to leave a comment. :)


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